


Meet the Blackquills

by Lirillith



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2, 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Family, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Kid Fic, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 07:21:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2142117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lirillith/pseuds/Lirillith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is what happens when crack theories get out of hand...</p><p>Gundam and Sonia get new identities, move to the US, and start a family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet the Blackquills

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quicksilver_ink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quicksilver_ink/gifts).



> This is the most transparent, least anonymous gift ever, but I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> The only way the timeline for this ~~piece of crack~~ crossover or fusion or whatever it is makes sense is if SDR2 takes place sometime in the mid- to late-80s, or if Ace Attorney's timeline doesn't exist, so... *handwave.*
> 
> For all other readers: The spoilers for SDR2 are mostly vague and implicit, but they are present. The idea originated when I noticed how similar Simon was - in looks, temperament, style of speech, and affinity for a certain type of animal - to Gundam Tanaka, and it all snowballed from there.

The Future Foundation offered them one chance. One new start. The didn't dare waste it, and so they debated, for months; Europe? The United States? Australia, Gundam suggested, the home of the strangest and most unlikely animals. South American rain forests. Madagascar.

Sonia couldn't help but be swept up by his enthusiasm at times, the photos he showed her of colorful birds and unlikely-looking marsupials, but her own inclination was for the States. That would place her far enough from her origins that she could likely go unrecognized, and leave behind her memories enough to let her function day to day, but at the same time, some of the larger cities — especially, she thought, on the West Coast — would have enough enclaves of Japanese settlement and culture to let Gundam ease into their new life.

Los Angeles, she suggested. Large, anonymous, with thriving Japanese-American communities, and while the city had certainly been shaken and damaged by the apocalypse Junko had unleashed, it was less affected than Beijing or Hong Kong or Seoul. More affected than Australia, she conceded, but the chaos in the States would make it easier for them to find a place, to do some good in their new lives.

She cheated, a little, digging up articles about the epidemic of homeless animals in the wake of the warfare.

He let her choose the surname from the list the Future Foundation provided. _Blackquill,_ she decided; it sounded dark and dramatic, in full accord with Gundam's tastes and her own, though it was unfortunate he found it so hard to pronounce. They practiced, at night, while they waited for their documents to arrive. They spoke only in English together for a month.

 

* * *

 

Gundam Blackquill was the grandson of an American soldier who'd remained in Japan after World War II. Both of his parents had grown up in Japan, they decided, to explain his thick accent. Sonia Blackquill, née Lugosi (her own choice; Togami had rolled his eyes, but indulged her) had met him in high school as an exchange student from Hungary.  Owing to the outbreak of the war during a school trip to Jabberwock, they'd been trapped there for years, and now, at twenty-five, they were married, taking advantage of Gundam's new official ancestry to relocate to the States.  Their records bore no references to Hope's Peak Academy.  

Her pregnancy — only three months along, but they kept ultrasound photos in their sheaf of documentation — was both proof of the reality of their marriage and an explanation for their wish to relocate. Japan was no longer the war zone it had been even two years before, but every official Sonia spoke to nodded sympathetically when she began explaining her fear of raising a child in the ruins.

Within six months, they were settled in a small, drab apartment in the San Gabriel Valley; not Little Tokyo, as Sonia had hoped, but there were enough Japanese-speakers to enable Gundam to get by, and much as she loved Japan herself, she also appreciated the array of languages she could see on a simple walk down the street to buy groceries. And though she felt some disappointment at her first sight of their new home, they needed to stretch their funds from the Future Foundation until one or both of them could find work.

Soon enough she grew to love their new, simple life; driving a car, vacuuming the carpet, assembling the baby's crib. Buying food to cook in her very own kitchen, with her own hands, though it soon became Gundam's kitchen. He could be very alarming when he talked about preparing food — _I shall transmute these simple vegetables into a hellish elixir with the strength of demon's blood!_ — but the results were always tasty and not at all poisonous, and he certainly had more practice at cooking than Sonia did.

Sonia found a job as an interpreter and translator; Gundam proved to be a very bad fit for retail, but Sonia was making enough that his sporadic employment wasn't really a problem. They adopted a parrot Gundam named Asmodeus, and a dog, a half-grown pitbull puppy that Gundam named Belphegor. Sonia always told the neighbors their dog was named Bel, which confused most of them, and Gundam would explain that he was one of the seven princes of hell, which upset the old lady who lived down the hall from them. Sonia set about convincing him she needed the exercise from walking the dog.

There were always the shadows hanging over them, of course — their former selves, the knowledge of what they'd each done in their old lives, the guilt and the risk of falling into despair again — but there was only one present-day flaw in Sonia's happiness, those first few months. Gundam always seemed reluctant to touch her belly, even when she took his hand by the wrist and placed it there; she began to suspect it was more than his usual shyness, but waited for him to explain.

"I would not risk tainting the child," he confessed, finally, in Japanese, late one night when she was up for the third time to relieve herself. "Once she is fully-formed..."

"Tanaka-san," she said, since this seemed like a night for old habits. "You make up half of her. You're not going to taint her."

"Her nature may be as evil as mine," he said, "but she cannot be touched by the curses I bear, or the responsibility for my actions."

"Of course she can't," Sonia said, even though she knew full well what he'd meant — that he thought he was somehow protecting the baby by not touching her. She'd long since stopped arguing with him about evil natures, and she was perfectly happy to humor him regarding dark powers. "She's her own person. You won't hurt her." She smiled encouragingly. "And she's wide awake right now, so please?"

He placed his hand, hesitantly, over her navel; she felt the baby move just then, probably a shifting of position rather than a kick — she couldn't honestly tell the difference, but that was what her doctor had said once — and in the darkness, she saw him close his eyes. "For everything we did, we can still make life," she said, quietly. "There's something good that can come from the fact we're still alive. You see?"

"She's strong," he said. "She will be a worthy heir to my dark throne."

"Exactly," she said, and strained forward to kiss him on the cheek.

 

* * *

 

Sonia had liked the idea of Aurora as a name — for the dawn, and hope, and new beginnings, and all that — but Gundam kept shortening it to Aura, and really, the child would probably have an easier time pronouncing that as well.

Of course, ease of pronunciation never stopped her husband from naming their pets things like Beelzebub and Leviathan (both hamsters) but they didn't have to say their own names.

 

* * *

 

Sonia couldn't help but think of Koizumi every time she took a picture, although they'd scarcely known each other at school or on the island. She thought of Koizumi snapping photos of people at their happiest when she took a picture of her laughing daughter; she thought of the beautifully composed shots of horrific carnage when she looked at her own artless, simplistic photos. Belphegor crawling on his belly past Aura, who was still figuring out how to propel herself along; Aura splashing in the kiddie pool in the backyard of the house they'd purchased when she was two; Aura chewing on a building block, Aura chasing a cat, Aura surrounded by Christmas presents.

Aura emerging as a person, bit by bit, a whole new person they'd made themselves.

She liked cats better than most other animals, to Gundam's frustration. He didn't appreciate cats' refusal to obey commands, and he worried about his hamsters with a cat in the house, but Mammon, a foster kitten who never moved out, was conditioned from a young age to view the hamsters and birds as friends, not food.

By the time Aura was four, though, they learned that she loved science fiction, aliens and spaceships and, above all, robots. Toy robots were a start, but she was forever disappointed when her toys wouldn't operate on their own, and it was enough to make Sonia think of risking a call to Souda Kazuichi. She didn't do it — now, of all times, she couldn't afford to risk anyone at all linking her to her old life — but sometimes she'd think wistfully of all the talking, moving toys Aura could have.

"Perhaps the Future Foundation could forward a message?" Gundam suggested.

"I suppose, but it's still risky. People might wonder where she got something like that, and then Souda was always..." She looked for a tactful way to say it. "Souda was always Souda."

"True."

"So it's best this way. And who knows, maybe she'll invent her own toy robots."

"Indeed, our daughter's gifts are terrifying in their undiscovered scope!"

Their daughter's gifts did not, as it happened, extend to tact. She tended to outpace her classmates and then loudly complain that her classes were boring, and once that began happening, Sonia began to regret the decision they'd made that Gundam should be the stay-at-home parent, because Gundam would review the lesson at hand — endless repetition of a letter of the alphabet or a number, for instance — and concur with Aura that her lessons were indeed far beneath her abilities, and that more appropriate materials must be provided at once.

"And if the schools are not prepared for our offspring's gifts, perhaps I, Gundam Tanaka, must—"

Sonia shot him a glare.

"—I, Gundam Blackquill, must provide an education _worthy_ of her!"

"Let's think about that for a little while, all right? Let her finish kindergarten first."

That was what she said, but she almost immediately started writing out a private list in Greek (it was easier than code) of the pros and cons of letting Gundam homeschool their daughter. Aura would probably benefit from socializing with other children her age. She was almost destined to be peculiar, considering what Sonia and Gundam were both like, and childhood isolation had just made them both even weirder. They had ample reason to believe in the life-changing power of close bonds with your peers; but then, they also had reason to know that simply being thrown together in a school wouldn't create those bonds. There were, she believed, homeschool organizations to help the children connect with others their age, but that was where Gundam's personality might become a problem.

On the other hand, Aura and Gundam both thought this was one of the best ideas Gundam had ever had, and Aura wasn't likely to make many friends at school by loudly complaining about the stupidity of everyone at school.

Maybe she'd be a better fit with public school by middle school, Sonia thought. Maybe.

 

* * *

 

"It is time, my daughter," Gundam said, and Sonia snapped her laptop shut. She might have agreed that Gundam could break the news, but that didn't mean she was going to just let him do it his way while she wasn't even in the room. "It is time that we reveal to you the truth — your mother is once again carrying my unholy spawn!"

"What your father _means,"_ Sonia clarified from the doorway, "is that you're going to have a little brother or sister. We think it's a brother."

"Can I call him the unholy spawn, though?" Aura asked hopefully. "I like it."

"Only at home," Sonia said. "Never at soccer practice."

"I hate soccer practice."

"And also only until he's born," Sonia added, because one could never be too specific with an eight-year-old, at least not with this eight-year-old. "After he's born, you have to use his name."

"No fair." Aura flung herself backwards into the couch cushions, arms crossed, pouting exaggeratedly.

"No, your mother is wise," Gundam said. "Names have power, my child."

And they would need to pick one. Or rather, Sonia would need to pick one; letting Aura have a vote seemed distinctly unwise, and while Gundam's input had been reasonable enough the first time, she was more than slightly concerned about the way he'd begun talking about his impending son and heir. Unholy spawn was one thing, but _Scion of Darkness_ and _Demonsworn Infant_ and _Bane of the Living_ were all a lot more colorful than the nicknames he'd used for Aura in the womb. Aura had been _the tadpole_ and _the hatchling_ and _our whelp._

"Tanaka-san," she murmured, late one night when the heartburn wouldn't let her sleep. He mumbled a response, but she was halfway speaking to herself, now. "You acted so much different when we were expecting Aura. Is it having a son that has you so excited?"

"It's... no." He sat up in bed. "I was more afraid then. Now, I know a human infant is no match for our combined powers."

"Every child is different, though. It won't be like raising Aura all over again."

"No. But Aura is a formidable child, more than worthy of our legacy. We've done well, and shall do so again."

She pushed herself up, wearily. "There are parts of our legacy I don't want her anywhere near, Gundam."

"Does my talk of darkness and powers beyond mortal ken trouble you so?"

"Not exactly..." It wasn't the dark-sorcery business that worried her. How to explain it? Was it the absence of guilt, the way he was taking it all in stride now? The irreverence, or flippancy, maybe. Bringing a new life into the world made her reflective. "You've used your dark powers for good many times."

"And there will be many more times to come!"

And then, of course, there was the difference between sons and daughters; Aura was more than old enough to consciously notice her father treating her little brother differently than he treated her. "I suppose I wonder if you'd act the same if we were expecting a girl this time."

"The ultrasound was hardly so clear that we can be certain you carry a son. And if I do see this boy-child as a chance to improve upon my own childhood, I hope it does not slight our daughter." She laid a hand on his knee, and he covered it with his own. "Aura's childhood presented the same opportunities, but I was unable to see it beforehand. Forgive me?"

"Of course. But we aren't naming our son Lucifer."

"Naturally. I will assemble the seven princes of hell in my own time. A worthy heir to Beelzebub has yet to present herself!" Beelzebub had turned out to be female, and she and Leviathan had formed Gundam's first breeding pair, but both had long since shed their mortal hamster forms. "For a son, I liked Abraxas."

"We'll see."

 

* * *

 

It was hard to be sure, after nine years, but Sonia felt reasonably certain Gundam treated baby Simon exactly the same as he'd treated baby Aura, with long, dramatic speeches in language far too advanced for a baby — far too advanced for most children Aura's age, in fact — and all sorts of silly games that he insisted were magical training. Sonia had worried, the first time around, but Aura had learned to talk perfectly well under Gundam's tutelage; she was fluent in English and Japanese, without most of Gundam's verbal quirks, so Sonia was sure Simon would be fine as well.

And Aura, to Sonia's relief, was fascinated with her baby brother, rather than resentful. For the first few months, Sonia and Gundam restricted her to only holding Simon when she was seated, but once he was old enough to hold his head up, Sonia was willing to trust her to carry her little brother around the house, and to play with him when her lessons were done. By the time Sonia was ready to trade in working from home for reporting to the office, she felt sure that Simon was, if anything, oversupplied with doting family.

If there was one thing in which Gundam might favor his son over his daughter, it was almost unavoidable. Simon loved animals. Gundam insisted that as an infant he favored the bird on the animal mobile hanging over his crib, and while Sonia and Aura were skeptical, Simon definitely seemed to have a preference for birds as he got older; he lit up when they showed him birds at the zoo, shouted and reached after birds flying overhead, and ran after sparrows at the park.

"I cannot _wait_ for him to pick his first familiar!" It was practically a refrain.

"Should I have a familiar?" Aura asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor of Sonia's home office. From the living room, they could faintly hear Gundam's deep tones and Simon's higher-pitched babble as they worked on teaching Asmodeus how to say Simon's name.

"I don't have one," Sonia said. "Your father's just happy to have something in common with Simon, Aura."

"Doesn't he have anything in common with me?"

"Of course he does! Just because the two of you are between Gundam series..." It had started out as a joke — Gundam watching Gundam — but Aura loved giant robots, and her father loved dramatic battles between good and evil, though he always rooted for the villains. "Babies require a lot of attention, but you need attention, too. We never had to worry about balancing that, before. Would you like me to talk to your father?"

"Daddy doesn't really have magic powers, does he?"

And that was the million-dollar question, wasn't it. _Daddy's delusional_ wasn't the right answer, and neither was _magic doesn't exist,_ but her little scientist wasn't going to believe in Santa Claus or Gundam's pantheon of demons and otherworldly entities for much longer even if Sonia insisted it was all real. "Your father doesn't really cast spells or do magic very often. And when he does it's usually something like a protection spell for our family. Not something where you can really see the results easily. He talks about demons and gods, but Belphegor just seems like a normal dog, doesn't he?"

Aura nodded.

"But he's always had an amazing ability to communicate with animals. I don't know if you can call it magic, but I've never met anyone else who can do that. He doesn't make a fuss about it, because he's always been able to do it. But that's his real power."

"So he's not really an evil wizard."

This was the delicate part. "It's... a bit like playing pretend. It's no fun to do it if you always have someone standing there saying ‘that's not really a robot, it's just a plastic toy,' is it?"

Aura's mouth had opened in a silent "O" of realization. "Grownups can do that too?"

"No one's been able to stop your father in the entire time I've known him."

"So instead of being an evil wizard, I could be a mad scientist or a space alien?"

"Exactly." Sonia beamed at her daughter. "You'd be a _terrifying_ mad scientist."

Aura jumped to her feet, grinning. "Simon might have a familiar, but I'll have a robot army!" she declared, hands on her hips. "I'm gonna go tell Daddy."

Sonia clapped her hands together. "You should! He'll be so proud."


End file.
